


Breakout

by abirdonalilactree



Category: Bad Samaritan (2018), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crossover, Don't Judge Me, Falling In Love, Fluff and Crack, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Serial Killer Husbands, a bit of violence, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abirdonalilactree/pseuds/abirdonalilactree
Summary: You can probably guess from the tags and the title: Martin and Cale meet behind bars, break out together and fall in love. Not necessarily in that order.Cale is still obsessed with horses and Martin finally found someone he can tell dad jokes.It's just a silly little story I just had to write, because no one else would.I highly recommend the movie and the series.Even if you don't plan on reading this fic, you should still watch those.They are both good.
Relationships: Cale Erendreich/Martin Whitly
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Breakout

Martin missed windows.  
Of course, he did.

It was weird only learning from the TV what weather it was outside.  
It was even weirder that it didn't matter to him anymore.  
Sunshine, Rain, Snow.  
Nothing affected him.

He imagined it would be so nice to just walk down a street. One foot in front of the other. As far as they carried him. With nothing stopping him.  
And just looking through the windows. His wife loved window shopping.  
Sitting in a parc also had been nice. Just sitting on a bench and absorb everything that happened around him. He liked to watch other people. Get a tiny glimpse of other peoples' lives.  
There were these odd little things that you start to miss when you are not ... Well. Not free.

It broke his heart a bit when he was informed that he had to leave New York.  
New York had been his home for a long time. It was where his family was.

But he had no say in this.  
He got transferred to the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane before he could blink.  
It sounded vaguely familiar.

Hadn't a friend of him been there?  
Surely.  
They had met in medical school. Hadn't they?  
Maybe they could meet again sometime.

Baltimore suddenly didn't feel so bad anymore.  
But then again he hated that it was so far from New York.  
It felt like the other end of the world.

Soon his family would call or visit him. At least he hoped so.

His new room was less nice than the one in New York and he wasn't allowed a TV.  
Most of the time Martin imagined it would snow outside.

~~~

Cale missed fresh air.  
Breathing in and out, the coldness like needles in your lungs.  
He missed what the forest smelled like.  
Footsteps in snow.  
The colour of blood in the snow.

Most of the time he was bored. But that was probably the point.  
*Think about what you have done.*  
At least he was allowed pencils and paper.  
Drawing could be something to quiet the voices.  
Something to calm the storm.

On one of his first nights there, he had started drawing horses.  
One after the other. Every one different than the other.

The others -patients, guards, nurses- were amused by that. They started to call him Horseperson.  
He hated this name.  
Horseperson.

If he just knew who first came up with it, then...

The walls were plastered in his own hand-drawn pictures of horses.  
He didn't really know why he did it. He just did.

There were black horses and brown horses. And even one or two white horses.  
There was a melancholic horse, there was an anxious horse.

There was a conceited horse.  
There was an apologetic horse.

He looked around his room. It was more room than a cell.  
That was because of the simple fact, that he had money to make it this way.  
He hated that he didn't have enough to just be free.

He missed his house.  
And more than anything else his car.  
He wondered what happened to it.

~~~

You could think that people like them felt at least some sort of regret.  
Some sort of remorse.  
Well.  
If they did, they weren't aware of it.

Somewhere at the back of their minds.  
Somewhere subcontiously.

Most of the time Cale was angry at Sean and the pretty blonde girl.  
It was simple.  
He wanted revenge.

Martin, on the other hand, wanted his family to accept him the way he was.  
He wasn't angry at his son. How could he?  
He just really missed them.  
Of course, a good father misses his children. 

~~~

It isn't as rare as you would think that serial killers work together.

You could now ask how serial killers find each other.  
How they meet.

How would you try to find another serial killer, if you were yourself one?

You don't exactly go to a grocery store and start talking to the person behind you in line about the latest murders in your local area.  
At least you shouldn't.

One way to find other people of your kind is on the internet.  
When you spend a lot of time on the internet, you will start to see things.  
Scary things.  
Groups and chat rooms, discord server.

Another way is of course at a mental hospital.  
More specifically in group therapy.

~~~

At the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane there was a new form of group therapy introduced.

The objective was unclear to the participants and probably also to everyone else, but the head of this so-called new project Karen White. 

New methods were to be researched.

Five patients were randomly picked to participate.  
They had to sit in a circle to talk about their feelings.

There was a guard for each of the patients.  
Heavily armed guards of course. 

Karen White was a short woman with short brown hair. She wore a pink suit and a plastic smile.

The patients who were picked hated her at first glance. 

They stared at her quietly. Each in their own mind killing her in their own preferred way.  
"Hello, my name is Karen. I'm 57 years old and I'm here today because I want to help you, gentlemen. Why don't you all introduce yourself? How about you start."  
She pointed at Cale.

"I don't think so, Karen."

Her already very thin lips became a lot thinner.  
Under a lot of make up her cheeks probably got red in anger.

"I could start," Martin said.  
He thought that maybe it would be helpful to make a good first impression.

"Alright then. You start."

"Hello. My name is Dr Whitly and I'm here because 23 of the people I killed were found."

"Weren't you the one whos son snitched on him?", a bald guy asked. His name was Robert.

Martin bit his tongue. His polite smile seemed a bit frozen.

"Hello. I'm Cale and I killed 24 people," he said, looking at Martin. He had emphasized the '4'.

"Very nice, but this is not a competition," Karen said.

"I killed 32," an elderly man said. His name was Paul.

"No, you didn't," Robert said. 

"I sure did," Paul suddenly yelled. 

"I don't believe you."

"I'll tell you where. I killed them I swear. I-"

The guard behind him grabbed him and pulled him from his chair and out of the room.

"Well. That's unfortunate," Karen said more to herself. "Now there are only four people left. I don't know if that's enough for my project."

She took out a small pink book and scribbled something down.

"Psst. Martin."

"Yes, Cale?"

"I think Karen is a serial killer," he whispered loudly. 

Martin snickered.

The guards behind them shifted uncomfortably. They shared a look.

"What was that, Kevin?", she asked without looking up from her notes.

"My name is Cale."

"Yeah, but we call him Horseperson," Robert added.

"How do you feel about that name?", Karen asked.

"I don't care."

Karen made more notes.

"Who's next?"

"Hello, my name is Robert and I killed 18 people. And this is Bertie he killed his children, his wife and her parents. He also doesn't talk."

"Don't you want to say that yourself, Bert."

"Bertie actually literally can't talk. He has some medical condition," Robert said.

"How am I supposed to work with that?", Karen said to herself.

In this first session she wanted to talk about everyone's general feelings.

But no one wanted to talk to her about their general feelings. 

After exactly 43 minutes Karen gave up. 

~~~

Cale sat down at his desk and drew a horse afterwards. 

The horse looked hopeful.

He didn't like Karen or the other prisoners. 

Except for one guy.  
The doctor.  
He seemed to understand.

~~~

Martin sat down at his desk and went through his notes.

He saw this pretty brown eyes in front of him. Cale seemed like the most interesting person in the group.  
He shook his head.

Was there a chance to convince the annoying lady that he had bettered himself and was ready to be released?  
Probably not. But it may be worth a try. 

~~~

Two days later they had to sit in a circle again.

"Now we want to train social skills. You all get a partner and then you talk about three things about your former life you miss and three things you don't miss."

The four patients groaned and rolled their eyes.  
Robert turned to Bert and started talking quietly.

And Martin turned to Cale and smiled softly. 

"It's ridiculous how she acts like we were a class of school children," Cale said. 

"Maybe it is a part of this project." 

He shrugged. 

"What are three things that made you happy, Cale?"

He groaned. "I don't wanna-"

"That's absolutely fine. Then I'll just start. Let me think. I liked reading good night stories to my children. I liked walking through the parc with them. They liked to look at the dogs. And I liked ...just talking I think. I miss having someone to talk to."

Cale stared at him for a moment. Then he said: "I liked going wherever the hell I wanted."

"What else?"

"I liked lonely evenings in front of the TV."

"Good point!"

"I liked not giving a shit about speed limits."

"Language."

Cale added: "I didn't like annoying people."

"I agree with that."

"I didn't like traffic jams."

"That's a good one."

"I didn't like when you get blood on your shirt and then you take it out of the washing machine it is still there because these new nature-friendly washing machines don't wash your stuff hot enough."

"I absolutely agree with that. I'm all for saving nature, but not at the expense of not washing blood off my bloody shirt, if you'll excuse the pun."

They smiled at each other for a short moment.

"So we agree in all the negative points."

"We do."

Karen was writing something on her phone as they looked over to her.

Their guards talked to each other vividly about football or something.

Cale watched them for a moment, then he took something out of his sleeve and handed Martin a four times neatly folded piece of paper.

"Oh, thank you, Cale, this is a lovely horse."

"No- I mean- turn it around."

"Oh. Yeah. A lovely horse. I'll hang it in my room."

He winked at him.

Cale looked into another direction. 

Martin hid the picture in his sleeve. 

He had read the message at the back of it and was quite excited about it.

~~~

Martin hung up the picture of the horse in his room.

It somehow made him happy.  
His children had stopped drawing for him many years ago.

This picture had been a sweet gesture. 

When he walked up and down in his room, he often stopped in front of it to admire it.  
The horse looked somewhat hopeful, didn't it?

~~~

Another group therapy session was on Tuesday of the next week.

"This sessions' topic is talking about your roots and where you come from. I suggest you form groups of two again."

The four patients stared at her for a moment then Robert and Bertie turned to each other once more and Martin and Cale shuffled closer to each other.

"I really don't want to talk about this topic," Cale whispered. 

"That's okay. I can understand that."

"Maybe it's better this way." 

"But. Do you not miss your family?"

"I don't have a family."

"Oh no. You must be terribly lonely, Cale."

"I'm fine."

The Surgeon and the Horseperson shared a moment. 

Then Martin cleared his throat.  
"Want to hear a joke on construction? I'm still working on it." 

"So?" 

"Get it? Construction? Working on it?" 

Cale furrowed his brows. Then he shook his head. 

Martin giggled quietly. 

~~~

Each in their own room, they stared at the ceiling at night.  
Cells never get completely dark.  
There is always light coming from the doors. 

Martin had felt very lonely for a long time. It would be nice to make a new friend. 

Cale on the other hand -no one really knew how he really felt inside, least of all Cale himself.

The ceiling looked cold.

~~~

Somehow they started to get excited about every new therapy session. 

"Where you also an angel of death?", Cale asked on one of those occasions. 

"A what?"  
Martin smiled politely.

"That's a doctor who kills his patients on purpose."

"Well. I did save a lot of lives. The numbers outweigh each other if you put both on a metaphorical scale-"

"Oh I bet you did kill your patients."  
Cale grinned. 

"Sometimes you can't save everyone. Being a surgeon-"

"You even do remind me a bit of an angel, now that I think about it."

"Do you think so?"

"It's something about your eyes and your smile."

Martin couldn't help but smile. 

"What about you?", he asked.

"What about me?"

"Why did you do it?"

"They were women who needed to be reminded of their place."

"I see."

The silence after that was a bit uncomfortable. 

"Do you know what really was a groundbreaking invention? Shovels," Martin finally said. 

"My head still hurts when I think of shovels." 

"It was a joke. Get it? Shovels? Groundbreaking?" 

Cale looked at his bright smile and didn't have anything mean to reply. 

~~~

The Group therapy session after that got delayed due to 'unforeseen circumstances', as they were informed. And somehow during the week, they came to the conclusion that Karen had changed her mind about her project. 

But on the following Thursday, they had to sit in a circle again without any explanation of what had happened the last time. 

"What would be the first thing you would do if you got out of here. Groups of two. Start talking," Karen said. Then she sat back down. 

"After I'm 207 years old there aren't many fun things left to do," Robert said.

"Then I want you to think hypothetically," she clarified impatiently. 

"I would buy a farm and live very far away from all those stupid people," Cale said quietly to Martin without hesitation.

"Well. Thank you."

"Not you. You could come with me. If you'd like it."

"That's very kind of you."

"I'm not kind."

"Well, I think I would want to see my family but they probably wouldn't want to see me."

"Come on, Angel," Cale said.

"There is not much else for me to do."

"We could live on a farm together. I bet your daughter likes horses."

Dr Martin Whitly hesitated for a moment. 

"She probably likes horses. I mean all little girls like horses. Right?", he asked.

~~~

There hadn't been a plan.

There had been an oportunity.

When it came they just took it.

Sometimes you just need to have a bit of luck.

Normally prisoners were supposed to be brought to their cells one by one. But if you are extremely understaffed and underpaid you start to lose the nerve to do everything by book. 

The guard Daniel had been sick this morning and had to stay at home.  
The guard Zack was having a bad cold but he had run out of sick- days. He and two other guards were on their way back from another therapy session bringing the four prisoners to their cells when Zack suddenly had a sneeze attack. 

"I think you should draw something," Martin said.

"Now!", Cale yelled as he stabbed one of the guards with his pencil he had hidden on him.  
There was a good reason why most prisoners like him normally weren't allowed pencils. 

He took the guards ID and keys and then gave them to Martin before he took the gun.  
Martin had pushed the other guard against a wall and then strangled him with his handcuffs while Cale was occupied with the other one.  
Both guards were unconscious and they could save the shots.  
The third one got his neck broken by Bertie. 

"No, this direction," Cale said. 

"You two can go. We are going back for Karen," Robert said and let his knuckles crack. 

Bertie gave them a toothless grin as he made a sound that reminded them of a seagull. 

"Good luck to you then," Robert added and turned to run back. 

"Thank you. We'll see you on the other side," Martin said, as Cale already grabbed his wrist to pull him in the direction of freedom. 

And their luck was insane. They managed to open two doors and shoot three people on their way through the building.

The alarm hadn't started yet as they went through the kitchen.  
They each took a knife. You could never have enough knives. 

The hospital was much less secure than you would expect.

Martin frowned at the kettle.  
Lunch would have been chilli.  
Cale hated chilli, too.

The cook that came into the kitchen got dunked headfirst into the kettle until he stopped moving.

They managed to open the door with the key card and suddenly they stood outside.

Against Martins expectations it wasn't snowing.

The area was emptier than you would expect. From the inside, they heard gunshots but still no alarm. 

Then they stumbled against a supplier who got out of a truck when he saw them.

Before he could reach inside his jacket, Cale grabbed him and pushed him and the man fell in surprise and hit his head in a bad angle on a wooden box. 

Martin got the keys from him.

"Let me drive. Give me the keys," Cale said and stretched out his hand. 

"I haven't driven a car in many years," Martin said pleadingly.

"I'm the better driver. Give me the keys."

He hesitated.

"Trust me," Cale said and then he finally got the keys handed.

Martin hadn't even fastened his seatbelt when Cale started driving.

With the full speed they crashed through the fences which had been weak and rusty on that part. 

For a moment there was silence.

But then the sirens started screaming.  
They saw blue light flickering behind them in some distance.

But the sirens didn't seem to get louder. And suddenly it got quiet again. 

Martin admired Cales' driving style and he had to admit that they wouldn't have gotten very far if he himself had been the one driving instead.

They couldn't believe it. Something probably went terribly wrong for the police, because they hadn't caught up yet.

One of the cars had a broken tire.  
One ran out of fuel.  
Three got destroyed by Bertie and Robert and they managed to steal the sixth car but they soon crashed it in a tree and had to flee by foot. 

~~~

"Where are we going?", Cale asked, as the sirens got quieter in the distance. 

"We could visit the Edgar Allen Poe house. Or the Orchestra. I don't think I've ever been to Baltimore before."

"I think we should get as far away from here as possible first."

"You are right. It's just that I hadn't really had the chance to go sightseeing in a long time."

"Maybe next time, Angel."

Cale clenched his teeth as he took a sharp left turn.

Martin on the other hand seemed to really enjoy their ride. 

~~~

They drove into the woods and of course, they couldn't stay on the main road.

Finally they had some bad luck.

It started to rain when they got out of the truck 

Water, more like spray than like rain.

And when they opened the truck, they found nothing.  
The truck was completely empty.

"No food," Cale said.

"No food," Martin answered.

"What now?"

"Walking. Let's try this direction. It seems the most knee-friendly. I haven't walked in ages. Are you okay with that?"

"I just think we need to get away from here."  
He took his arm and pulled him in said direction while also steadying him.

"Should we split up?", Martin asked carefully.

"I'm not letting you run around alone through the darkness. We might never find each other again. And I don't want the wolves to eat you," Cale muttered. 

"That's very nice of you."

"I'm not nice."

"If you say so."

~~~

They've been stumbling around for what felt like hours when they finally saw that right in front of them was a cabin in the woods.

Luckily for whoever owned it, they weren't home when Martin and Cale reached it.

Cale broke the window next to the door.  
It smelled like dust on the inside.  
That and hints of beer.

They observed the rooms. Nothing out of the ordinary a few empty bottles. Books. A cheap painting on the wall.

"Look at you. You are bleeding," Martin suddenly said.

"No, I'm not."

"You cut your hand on the window glass."

"I'm fine."

"Give me your hand."

"Do you even know what to do?"

"Well. They call me the surgeon for a reason."

There was fear in his eyes when Cale stumbled further away from him until his back hit a shelf.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Martin said reassuringly. 

Cale hesitated.

"Trust me."

With clenched teeth he gave him his bleeding hand.

"First we need something to clean this."

"Maybe in the cupboard over there-"

"Sit, down, dear. You'll sprinkle your blood all over the carpet."

Pain bit into his hand like a hungry wolf. But he bit his lips. 

"Let's promise each other something. I won't kill you and you won't kill me. We have a better chance of surviving if we stay together. Don't we?", Martin said after Cales' hand was packed in bandages they had luckily found.

Cale observed his bandaged hand suspiciously. 

"You helped me," he stated.

"Of course I did. You were hurt and you needed help. This is what friends are for."

He hesitated, but Martin waited patiently.  
"Okay. I promise. But if you break this promise I'll never forgive you."

"I've never lied to you, Cale."

"I guess then it is you and me against the rest of the world."

Martin smiled at him and it was like the whole room lit up.

~~~

There were clothes.  
They were too large for Cale and too small for Michael.  
But they hadn't much of a choice, because they couldn't keep what they were wearing.

"I hope we find some grocery store soon. You are only skin and bones."

"I am fine." Cale seemed very nervous. "We can't stay here."

"Okay, then let's just pack a few things."

"You could shave this hideous beard off."

"I thought you liked it."  
He pouted.

"This is about changing appearances. Do you know? So we won't get caught?"

"You did say hideous."

"I did. Now, move, Angel. We might not have all day."

~~~

It was very dark outside and the rain had gotten heavier as they looked out the window.

Behind the water the trees disappeared. 

"Are you sure we shouldn't stay here?"

Cale didn't answer.

"It would be different if we knew this area. ...If we knew our way around here this would be no problem. But since we don't, it would be better if we stayed and waited for the rain to stop," Martin added softly. 

"Fine."

"I'll make us some soup," Martin said cheerfully. 

~~~

They laid down on the bed next to each other and stared at the ceiling.  
The soup had been awful.  
But that didn't matter.

With a nice fire, the room was filled with cosy warmth.

"What if the owner comes back?", Cale asked. 

"We could kill him. For example."

"The fridge is quite empty."

"Are you implying-"

"No. ... Did you ever?"

"No. You?"

"No."

"I think no one has been here in a long time. Not a long time. But at least a week."

There was silence for a moment. 

"Have you often been to graveyards?" 

"No, why? I had my own graveyard at home."

"Where there many bodies?"

"Yeah, I had them all at one place." 

"So it was really packed. Seemed like people were *dying* to get in." 

Michael watched him expectantly from the side. 

Cale groaned. "This was your worst pun so far."

The bed shook as Martin laughed. Then they got quiet again. 

"Angel?"

"Yes, Cale?"

"Good night."

"Good night."

~~~

"Where would you like to go?", Martin asked as they walked through the woods again. 

"Somewhere quiet. Where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere sunny. I haven't seen the sun in years.  
On the other hand, I don't want to be too far away from my children."

They looked at each other. 

"What is it, Cale?"

"I sometimes wish, I had a better childhood. You seem like a good father."

"I am a great father. I even have one of those best-dad-cups. But that was before..."

"I see."  
Cale nodded. 

Martin took his hand. They walked hand in hand for a while. Sometimes a small gesture like that is more than enough. 

"Look at the stars."

"It's quite a shame we have so much light pollution," Cale said. 

"So we want somewhere warm with a beautiful night sky but not too far away."

"Also horses."

"Also horses." Martin nodded. "I used to tell my children about the stars before bedtime. Over there should be NGC 482 right in the phoenix."

"You are making that up." 

"Have you heard about the restaurant on the moon? Great food. No atmosphere." 

Cale cringed. 

Martin laughed. "The good thing about young children is, they believe whatever you tell them until a certain age."

"You really miss them."

"Of course I do."

"Do you want to say goodbye before we go live on our tropical horse farm under a sky of beautiful stars?"

"This might be not that good of an idea. They haven't reached the point where they understand. Someday they will. I know it. But until then..."

They walked in silence for a few steps. 

"I understand you, Martin," Cale said quietly.

"No you don't."

"I do."

"How?"

"We are the same."

"We really are the same." His eyes lit up again. 

"Maybe we could-"

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

They kept walking.  
The ground was uneven and they got a bit out of breath. The bags they had gotten from the cabin seemed to get heavier. 

"We won't have cats on our farm.  
I don't like them," Cale said like he had thought about it for a long time.

"Not even one friendly orange one to scare the mice away?"

"No cats. I wouldn't mind some mice."

"She doesn't have to live in the house."

"If you really want a cat we could have one."

Martin smiled brightly.

This time Cale smiled, too. "Come on, Angel."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to those of you who spotted the Hannibal and the Good Omens references.
> 
> My first thought was to write the end of mice and men style.  
> But then I remembered that I hate of mice and men.  
> Anyway.  
> They go and live on a horse farm together and live happily ever after.
> 
> By the way.  
> I really wanted Cale to get away with it in the movie.  
> I mean I wanted Sean and the pretty girl to survive, but Cale should have also gotten away with it.  
> Be completely honest: who is with me?
> 
> Also please leave a kudos and maybe even a comment if you liked what you saw.  
> Maybe I write a second part or something. About their life as husbands on a horse farm. If you guys want me to.  
> In that case let me know your favourite dad jokes.


End file.
